The Restricted Section
by DarthTuppet
Summary: Hermione was livid. How could boys possibly be so incredibly stupid? She should be in the Great Hall with the other students, and enjoying her dinner… but her life was never that easy. Here she was roaming the castle and looking for Harry and Ron. What happens when Hermione finds more than she bargained for, hiding away in the library? Non Canon, but also mostly canon.
1. The Name Game

Hermione was livid. How could boys possibly be so incredibly stupid? She should be in the Great Hall with the other students, and enjoying her dinner… but noooo. Here she was roaming the castle and looking for Harry and Ron. She had looked just about everywhere, including Professor Slughorn's office but no luck. Judging by what she saw of the Great Hall, they weren't with Hagrid either as he was in his usual spot at the teachers table.

"You have got to be kidding me." She muttered under her breath. The girl was now in the library, roaming the isles and checking each nook and cranny to see if her friends were there, hidden away and drawing obscene sketches in the margins of the old books that she loved so dearly. Though Harry and Ron were still nowhere to be found, Hermione noticed that there was a light coming from the dusty shelves of the restricted section.

"Madam Pince?" She was afraid to be too loud, though library hours were over, being too noisy in the most sacred and important room of the whole school was something she wasn't willing to do. Not now. Not ever. "Madam Pince?" It was unlikely that the librarian was in the library, as she was usually one of the first teachers to show up for the evening meal. The light was most likely coming from a lantern held by her friends. There is nowhere else they could be.

She crept closer and closer to the gate and discovered that it was already unlocked. Someone was in there, and she was ready to yell at them since clearly, Harry and Ronald thought this off all places was a good hiding spot. Honestly. She rolled her eyes and huffed, her breath sending wisps of her curly brown hair flying up to the ceiling before falling back down to tickle the end of her nose. As she stepped through the door, she was careful to close it silently behind her. She didn't like that it had just been hanging open. Besides, this section was gated off for a reason.

"Where have you been yo…" Hermione whipped around the corner of the third to last shelf and saw Draco Malfoy sitting on the floor, back pressed against the books with a cauldron between his legs.

He sat up straight, bumping his his cauldron and looked at Hermione with a start. "Granger?!" The usual drawl was missing from his voice. He slumped back against the books and sighed. "What are you doing here? I honestly don't have the energy to bicker right now. If you're planning on leaving, leave the door open will you? Otherwise I'll be locked in." She was speechless. At no point in the last several years had Malfoy ever made any effort to sound civil. "Locking spells don't work, it's been charmed."

"I'm sorry Malfoy, I closed the door on my way in. I thought you were Har…" she knew she sounded a bit scared, and cut herself off mid sentence. "I truly am sorry." Draco looked at her, his grey eyes illuminated by the lantern. He sighed.

"You might as well sit down. I won't be mean to you, I'm just so tired." For the very first time, Hermione noticed how very human he was. She carefully lowered herself to the floor several feet away from the blonde boy and pulled her robes tightly around her.

"What are you doing in here anyway?" She had never seen Malfoy or his friends in the library before.

The boy reached into his robe, and Hermione tensed up. What if he tried to hex her? She fingered her own wand inside of her robes and hoped that she could pull it out on time. Instead of his wand however, Malfoy pulled a small tin out from under the black fabric.

He yawned loudly, and clicked the tin open. "Furb Lin's InstaWake. Instant energy for the sleepy witch or wizard." On the lid, a rooster slumped against the edge of the tin, silently snoring. The Slytherin must have seen her looking at his box. "Want one?" As he spoke, he popped several bright yellow candies into his mouth. Tiny bursts of yellow and orange light burst behind his lips as if little balls of sunlight were dancing in his tongue. "Come on Granger, I promise that they aren't poison." Draco smiled at her. Or at least that's what she thought he did. She had never seen him, or anyone in Slytherin for that matter smile before.

"Sure," Hermione reached out with trembling fingers and picked up one of the small bead shaped pieces. "Thank you, Malfoy." The candy tasted faintly of yellow tea cakes, and citrus, and she could see the light peeking out of her lips and how it swirled through the dust

"You know, you don't have to call me Malfoy all the time."

"What?" The girl was taken aback at his words.

"Malfoy, you don't have to always call me that. You could call me Draco. Ya know, if you wanted to. And here I was, thinking Muggleborns cared about manners and feelings."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Hermione's eyes darkened.

"I'm just kidding, Hermione. I just thought…" He pushed the sloshing and bubbling cauldron across the floor with his foot. "That you could call me Draco. Sometimes. I guess… I mean only if you want to." She had never heard the boy say her first name before. He slumped against the shelf again, sliding down slightly.

"Okay, Draco…" she looked at the cauldron. "What exactly are you brewing?"


	2. You Can't Eat In Here

Draco turned his body to face Hermione. "I'm trying to find a way to burn off… this." He pulled his sleeve up to reveal what looked like a dark splotch on his forearm. Hermione gasped. It was the Dark Mark.

"Mal… I mean Draco, why do you have the Dark Mark? You're too young. You still have the trace!" She reached out as if to touch him. He gulped, the hair on his arm stood on end, and goosebumps teased at his skin.

Why after years of calling this girl a mudblood and wishing for nothing more than her death, did he want to spill out all of his fears to her?

"Careful, don't touch it!" He almost yelled. Draco's other hand let his robes fall and trapped Hermione's wrist.

She flinched as he touched her. The Gryffindor didn't know why, but she had half expected for his hands to be cold and smooth like marble. Not that she had ever thought about his skin at all. To her surprise, Malfoy's hands were warm and soft. His slender fingers wrapped around her wrist.

"Be careful." He dropped Hermione's hand and she pulled his arm closer to herself, despite almost silent protests from the Slytherin 6th year. The girl bent her fluffy head over Draco's arm and studied the mark carefully. She was becoming more and more aware of the fact that Malfoy was watching her.

She dropped his arm quickly, and looked at him, blushing all the while. "It looks like some sort of crude tattoo." The black ink of the Dark Mark quivered under his skin and appeared to fade- the black sinking deeper into his pale skin.

"Yeah, it does that sometimes. It has a mind of its own." Malfoy reached into his school bag and pulled out a small box of crisps. "Want one?"

"I hardly think that this is the time, Draco. There is no food allowed in the library."

"Granger, it's 19:00 and the library won't open until 10 tomorrow morning. I don't know if muggles starve their children, but I for one… ugh. I'm sorry. We won't be found until morning. May as well eat." He brandished the crisp box at her again, and she took several crisps and raised them to her lips albeit begrudgingly, and slowly nibbles on them.

"So, what is it really like being a Muggleborn? Is it weird leaving this place and going home?" Malfoy pulled off his robes and bunched them up on the floor. He swiveled and lowered himself down into the floor, resting his blonde head into the soft black and green fabric. "I've heard that the photographs don't even move. Can you even imagine?! The only moving pictures are stuck in a big box with a glass window."

She couldn't help it. Hermione broke out into a fit of giggles. The girl tried to imagine the Malfoy family in a Muggle house. The tv playing a rather violent game of football, and stationary wall hangings lifeless in front of their eyes- It was a very funny thought. She just couldn't see Draco standing at the counter in the bathroom, brushing his teeth while listening to the radio. But, that's exactly what she WAS picturing. Pulling her own robes off and laying opposite next to him, she managed to squeeze out an explanation.

"Being a Muggleborn is no different than being a wizard Draco. The pictures don't move, but they can still be beautiful. If you'd like, I can show you sometime. I have some pictures from back home."

"Could you really?" Draco asked, almost excitedly. "I've never seen a muggle photograph." He passed the box of crisps to Hermione, and tried not to notice how hot his ears were becoming when his fingers brushed hers. They were lying parallel to each other, feet facing in the opposite directions. It wasn't very comfortable, but it would have to do.

"Yes! I mean, as long as you don't mind being seen with a mudblood like me." She nudged his shoulder with her foot, having removed her shoes only moments before.

"You shouldn't call yourself that Granger." He grabbed at her foot and squeezed it through the grey knitting. "You'll just make everyone else think it's okay to call you that. You don't want that do you?"

Hermione huffed and turned to her side, facing away from him. "What, you mean like YOU did, Draco?" She injected his name with so much venom that he could almost taste it. The boy propped himself up on his elbows and looked at her. Her fluffy hairy was splayed out over her robes, and the way her body dipped down at her hip, made him see her as more than just some stupid little girl in Gryffindor. He pulled his robes up and spun to lay down next to her again, but this time his head was next to hers.

"I am sorry you know," He sighed. "I have no choice. No one can know that I don't want this life anymore. I just have to pretend." She turned to face him.

"What do you mean? You don't want this life? Draco, what are you on about?"


	3. Mussolini Is Not A Spell

The library was quiet and the light from the lantern glowed softly, casting strange shadows over the walls. Draco had spent the last two hours explaining his relationship to the Dark Lord, to Hermione. There were moments where she had to remind herself to breathe. If what he was saying was true, death was joke st around the corner. Not just for Harry, but Draco, Herself, and Ron as well.

"And he… he wants you to kill Dumbledore?" She asked incredulously. "Draco, you can't. Dumbledore is the greatest wizard of all time. What will happen to you if you don't succeed?" Hermione paused. Why did she care so much about this boy. She HATED Draco Malfoy. Why was she now so worried about him and his safety?

"I don't know. Kill me I guess. It's funny, you know." Malfoy turned to his side and propped his head up on his elbow.

"What do I know, exactly? I don't find anything about this whole situation "funny", Draco!" Hermione, who had been twirling her wand between her fingers and thinking about how hard it would be to transfigure a book into a fluffy pillow, was now looking at Draco Malfoy like someone had unleashed a boggart.

"I've wanted to be a Death Eater my whole life. It's been my driving force. The only thing I've ever wanted, really." He heard the girl scoff, but continued anyway. "Sure, I always have gotten things like brooms, trinkets and all the sweets I could ever ask for… but I've always known that this would be my life. It's my father I guess. He always drilled into me about how I'm a pure blood."

"So you're telling me that you don't hate Muggleborns?" Hermione sat up. "Could you pass me that book?" She pointed at a big dusty blue book with faded black ink on the spine.

Draco heaved Dangerous and Deadly HambCades off the shelf and pushed it into her arms. "Honestly, I've never had to opportunity to form an opinion. Though, if they're all like you… I guess they aren't that bad, are they?" She was surprised to see him smile.

"Mollisium superficiem flocculaquea!" there was a soft poof, and the blue book turned itself into a fluffy periwinkle colored pillow. Malfoy stared at her, and then at the pillow that was sitting exactly where the book had been only seconds before.

"Granger, you really are the brightest witch of you age." He gawked at her. "Can you teach he that?" The boy, usually didn't care about school work, he was suddenly more interested than he should be over the idea of pillows. Hermione sat up and gestured to another book, which he handed her enthusiastically.

"First, pick a large book. Those are my favorite at least. Then, place it like so." Hermione put the large leather bound book on the floor in front of Draco, who sat up to face her. "Next, hold your wand like this." She held her wand steady and began slowly moving it through the still air, as if she was drawing an invisible rectangle with the tip. He mirrored her motion until he was smoothly drawing the same invisible rectangle she was.

"Now what? What was that spell you used? Something about Mussolini?"

"No," she stopped herself from giggling, but only barely. "Mussolini was a muggle dictator. Mal- I mean… Draco. Mollis superficiem flocculaque translates from Latin to 'soft plush surface'. Now, try to turn the book into pillow. Remember to draw the box, and be fluid with your movements."

Draco blinked and raised his wand. "Mollisium superficiem flocculaquea!" Nothing happened. He rolled his eyes and swore softly.

"Try again. You MUST learn to relax your shoulders." She reached across to push down on Malfoy's shoulders, trying to force the boy to loosen up. Again, she almost expected him to be immovable and cold like the marble that housed Gringotts, but he was actually quite warm. He was seeming more and more human to her every minute, and strangely… she found herself enjoying his company.

Several tries and many loud swears later, Malfoy had successfully transfigured the book into a decently sized pillow. Unlike Hermione's though, this book was gold and a deep shade of plum. "Yes! I can't believe it took me so long to turn the blasted thing into a silly little pillow." Draco dropped his wand and lifted the pillow to fluff it between his hands.

"That was incredible." The blonde boy put the pillow behind his head and laid himself back down to the floor. "This is actually quite comfortable."

And with Hermione began to cry.


	4. Peeves and The Lost Points

"Granger, what's gotten into you?" He sat up quickly pulling his cloak out from under his pillow and wrapping it around her shoulders.

"I-I- I'm ssss-sorry," she wailed. "We are only stuck in here because of me. No one will find us tonight and you can't even sleep in your dormitory and it's all because of me." Great salty tears fell from her eyes and cling to her lashes and cheeks. "I know you hate me. You don't have to pretend Draco. It's okay."

The boy was taken aback. He had never really thought badly about Hermione before. It is true that they were school enemies, but he had never personally disliked her at all. Though based on his behavior, he could see why she thought otherwise. But now that he was stuck in the restricted section with her, he found that he actually quite like her company, Muggleborn or not. "No, I don't. I really don't."

"You think I'm a dirty mudblood. I know you do." She continued to cry softly, hiding her face from the boy. Draco scooched over next to her, and put his arm around her, and pulled her close to his side. She rested her head on his shoulder. Normally she'd be afraid, but she just didn't have the energy.

"No, Hermione. You're not a mudblood. You have so much more talent that you even realize. He took one of her wrists in his free hand and drew circles with his thumb. "It's gonna be okay." He had no plans on doing so, but the boy turned his face towards her, and kissed her temple. He buried his nose in her hair and it smelled of coco and maple.

"You really think that?" She looked up at him, tears still dancing on her cheeks. Through her filling eyes, she noticed how handsome Malfoy was. She had never been this close to him before. "I do." He replied, a slight smile on his lips.

"What's this here?" Peeves the Poltergeist was floating in front of them, holding a large bucket of what looked like mud. "Stoodies out of bedsies?"

"Oh no, Peeves please don't." Hermione begged.

"HELP HELP STU-" Peeves began to scream but Malfoy had other ideas. Peeves fell silent.

"If you be quiet, I'll get you 6 pounds of Filibusters Fireworks." Draco got to his feet and stared at the funny little man.

"Six pounds you say?" Peeves floated, bouncing slightly on the air.

"Yes. I'll make it twelve if you let us out and stay quiet about what you've seen. I'll even throw in a gallon of Fire Whiskey."

"So be it!" Peeves threw the bucket at the ceiling, and it exploded with a loud BANG. "Follow me little stoodies!" With that the poltergeist blew open the gate and flew off cackling mady. Hermione and Draco scrambled into their robes and shoes.

"Wait up!" Draco vanished his cauldron and crammed the pillows into the shelf. He ran after Hermione, laughing as he tried to catch up to her.

When they were in front of the Great Hall, they both stopped and tried to catch their breath. "Draco, you have to teach me that spell!"

"Ah, finally I know something, that the great Hermione Granger does not?"

"Shut up!" She playfully pushed his shoulder. "I just want to know how you made them disappear."

Before either one of them could say anything more, the sound of footsteps could be heard coming down the hall.

"Peeves." They said together. They should have known that as greedy as Peeves was, he couldn't pass up a chance to alert the staff of some new and dire emergency. "We better get out of here, Hermione. I'll see you in class." And before she could scurry up the stairs, Draco grabbed her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. And with that he turned and made his way to the dungeons. She stood for a moment and blinked at the empty corridor.

"Miss. Granger? What are you doing?" Her heart froze and she saw that the footsteps belonged to none other than Percy Weasley and Professor McGonagall. She skipped a beat as Percy, Headboy of Gryffindor ran after the blonde boy, no doubt to give him as many detentions as he was allowed to give.

"Miss. Granger, I am very disappointed in you. 175 points from Gryffindor. I think it's safe to also assume that you will be joining mister Malfoy in attending two weeks worth of after school detentions., I trust that you can find you way back to bed."


	5. Shut Up, Myrtle!

"I can't believe she's put us in detention. My-"

"Let me guess, your father will hear about this?" Hermione and Draco were carrying big baskets of washing down a well lit corridor. Hermione had been to the laundry room once before during their second year when Ron and Harry had both successfully used the Polyjuice potion, though Draco hadn't known any the wiser.

"I don't even know how to do laundry!" Malfoy complained loudly. They turned the corner and Hermione could have sworn that she heard Malfoy swear as he was lugging a much larger hamper than hers. The drawl was still missing from his voice, but she could hear the indignation that remained bubble up.

Laundry usually was one of the chores that the Hogwarts house-elves took care of after the rest of the castle had gone to sleep. Though they wouldn't be doing laundry, Mcgonagall had arranged for the pair to carry the large hampers to the room where the washing was done. Hermione briefly wondered if she would perhaps see a House-elf while she was down there. Though no one other than Hermione, Harry and Ron had ever actually seen one within the walls of the school, Hermione knew that Draco had seen one however, as Dobby had come from the Malfoy's large manor.

"Come on, stop being a cry baby. We aren't DOING the laundry, we are just dropping it off. The real detention chore is cleaning the girls bathroom." She turned to glare at him, but just as they entered the laundry chamber she tripped, tumbling over several large loads that had been left there previously. She was embarrassed at how coltish she was lately. Hermione lay there face down in a pile of robes and hats. She wanted to move but if she stayed in this position, Malfoy couldn't see how red her face was from embarrassment.

She lay very still for a moment in the laundry when she heard a great WOOSH and a thwack as Malfoy smacked her on the back with a fuzzy Hufflepuff scarf. "Get up, you. I can't do this on my own." She pushed herself up onto her knees and looked around the room. There were indeed several house elves there, sweeping and pulling heaps of clothes out of the Washz-awll cleaning basin. Draco grabber her arm and pulled her up.

"Thank you, Draco." Hermione smoothed her robes out, and stepped forward to speak to the elves, confirming that this chore was finished.

•••

"I had no idea there were so many house-elves here." Draco and Hermione were making their way to the second floor girls bathroom, buckets and cleaning supplies in hand. Usually cleaning was overseen by Filch, but he was still tending to the destruction caused by Peeves in the library. They were on their own.

When they entered, they both groaned. The bathroom was flooded. This was a usual occurrence as the ghost, Moaning Myrtle who lived in the s-bend of the pipes frequently overfilled the toilets and sinks, to match the otherworldly tears that fell from her empty eyes. They both set to work, having thrown their robes over the doors of the stalls and pushed up their sleeves. It was dull work, and they spent most of the time in silence, occasionally grumbling about the water or the cool air that filtered through the lavatory.

They had been cleaning for an hour when from one of the sinks, came a loud and gut wrenching sob. Both Malfoy and Hermione whirled around to face the direction thesound had come from. Moaning Myrtle rocketed out of the sink and came down to hover next to the Gryffindor girl.

"Hello Hermione, I'm sorry if my crying disturbed you. I am ever so distraught today. No one even cared that I'm dead, no one even misses m… where's Harry?" Myrtle turned to look at Malfoy. "Who's HE?" Malfoy couldn't even open his mouth before the ghost turned back to Hermione. "Why did you bring him? He's not cute like Harry Potter is. Bring him next time. I'll even flood the bathroom for him." Myrtle giggled, but did not leave. It was as though she were waiting for Harry to magically appear.

"Myrtle," Hermione hissed. "That's not very nice. I know you think Harry is handsome, but Draco is every bit as attractive as Harry is. Please don't be rude." As soon as she finished speaking, Hermione knew that she had said the wrong thing. Myrtle began to cry, and threw herself through the stall door and dove into the toilet, splashing water on the floor that was very nearly dry.

"So," Malfoy stood his mop up, and leaned on it for support. He was now staring across the bathroom at Hermione. "You think I'm Handsome, do you? Well, this is quite a surprise Granger. I'd always thought you'd end up with a crush on the school rule book."

Hermione pointed her wand at the boy. "Accio mop." and as it flew into her hands, Draco Malfoy, who was as quick on his feet as he was on a broom stumbled into the new puddle and slipped, falling flat on his back as the water soaked through his shirt and black pants.

"I just didn't want Myrtle bothering us." The girl turned to face her own mop, still gripping Draco's.

"That wasn't very nice you know. My clothes are soaking wet now." Malfoy hoisted himself up, and began fumbling with the small dragon bone buttons on his white shirt.

"How else was I supposed to get you to shut up?" Hermione plunged both mops into her bucket and turned back to find a now shirtless Draco standing next to the sink, ringing his shirt out over the drain Myrtle had come out of.


	6. Real Eyes Realize

Hermione lay awake in her four-poster trying not to think of her time in detention. She had seen plenty of boys without their shirts before. Harry and many of the Weasley men would walk around the Burrow shirtless during the hot summer months, and even her own father could be seen lounging in the sun without a top. Why was this half naked little rodent stuck in her mind? Draco Malfoy was a thin, pale, pointed faced boy, with grey eyes. His fair skin was matched with even paler white blonde hair. Up until now, she had always thought that he was a skinny twig of a boy, but he was anything but.

Now that she had seen more of him it was quite obvious that Draco wasn't big and burly like Oliver Wood, nor stick thin like she had originally thought, but rather lean and slender. His skin stretched tautly over the muscles on his stomach and the Dark Mark stood out boldly on the skin of his arm. Hermione gulped and gave into thinking about the Malfoy boy, his biceps, and about how his eyes had sparkled when she had said that he was just as handsome as Harry was.

'He really is handsome' she silently admitted to herself, as she wiggled deeper into her sheets. Hermione drifted off to sleep allowing herself to imagine what his skin would feel like under her fingertips.

•••

Hermione woke with a start. The room was dark, but she could see the outline of a small bat-eared creature standing next to her bed. It was so close that she could feel the heat coming from it's small body. She grabbed her wand. "Lumos," She said groggily.

Surely enough, there was a House-elf standing by the edge of her mattress. "Miss. Granger, Mister Malfoy requires your presence next Tuesday at midnight in the place where it all began."

She blinked and rubbed her eyes. "What do you mean, where it all began?"

"Master Draco sent me to tell you this riddle, miss. He says you are the most smartest witch of our time, miss. He told Tonty that you most enjoyed riddles."

This particular elf looked much smaller than the other elves that Hermione had seen. She had a feeling that this one must be very young. Tonty had large saucers for eyes, but unlike Dobby and Winky, this House-elf had one blue eye and one green.

The house elf shuffled its feet and left backed away slowly, "I must be going now miss." There was a loud pop, and Tonty vanished into thin air. Hermione sat in her bed, blinking and trying to focus her eyes.

"Oy! Mionie, turn that light off. We're trying to sleep here." Leia Aaron was another Gryffindor 6th year, and she had been sleeping next to Hermione since she had first arrived at the school years ago.

"Sorry, Leia. Please go back to sleep." She had extinguished her wand, but the Scottish girl had already fallen asleep before Hermione even responded.

•••

It had been nearly a week and Hermione try as she might, could not possibly understand what Malfoy wanted from her. It was now Monday evening and she had no clue what to do. "Where it all began?"

"Come again?" Ron was staring at her. "Hermione, what are you on about? You've been saying that all week." They were sitting in the Great Hall, along with the rest of the students for dinner.

"Yeah, you haven't even done your homework, Hermione." Harry Potter's voice was filled with concern. "Are you feeling alright?" He reached across and offered her his goblet that was filled to the brim with water. "Would you like to take a drink? I haven't seen you eat or drink anything in days."

"No, no. I'm quite alright." She did indeed take Harry's cup and drink from it, tipping her head back and draining it. Her voice was airy and she stood up. "I'm just tired. I think I'm going to go to bed, to be honest. I'll see you both tomorrow. Don't forget your potions homework Harry." With that Hermione grabbed a handful of small lemon cakes from the table, and quickly made her way out of the hall and up the stairs.

"Granger!" Draco Malfoy was climbing the stairs behind her. He stopped and looked up at her. He wasn't wearing the usual school robes, but a rather fitting black suit, shirt, and tie. "I can expect to see you tomorrow, yes?" He was alone.

"Ye- yes. I don't quite understand what you meant by…" She was cut off. Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise had turned out of the great hall.

"Oye! Is this little Mudblood bothering you Draco?" Blaise appeared behind Malfoy so fast that Hermione could have sworn that he had apparated.

"No," Malfoy sneered and the familiar drawl returned to his voice. "I was just telling all the Muggleborns in the school," he paused "that they should never have gotten on the boats in first year." he looked her dead in the eyes. "That they should have never been allowed to make that ride across the lake." The boys laughed, as Hermione's face fell. They were too busy guffawing to notice the look he gave her. "You know, that's where Hogwarts really starts after all. Come on boys, let's go. I want to see if Pansy is back from extra lessons yet."

As the three turned back down the stairs to head back to the dungeons, Draco stood for a moment and then took the last two steps up. He grabbed both of Hermione's shoulers and squeezed. "Please meet me there. Bring Potter's cloak." Hermione blinked up at him.

"... brin- what?"

Students began filtering out of the Great Hall and into the corridor. "And if you ever step on my shoes again Granger, I'll get father to hex you." He jeered loudly. It was clear that he was trying to disguise their conversation as something else. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, his breath hot and swift. "Think, Hermione. Meet me where we all began." He pressed his forehead head against her own, and turned heel to stride down the Grand Staircase. Ron and Harry, followed closely by Shamus, Dean, Neville and Ginny climbed the stairs.

"Damn it, was Malfoy giving you a hard time again?" Ron swore loudly and looked at Harry. "We should follow him and teach him a lesson, don't you think Harry?" The redhead pulled his wand out of his pocket.

"We really should. Where does he get off being such a foul, abhorrent little git?" Harry also pulled out his wand, fully ready to chase after the Slytherins.

"Oh put your wands away, honestly." Ginny grabbed ahold of Harry's wrist and pushed it down to his side. "We needn't be fighting. It's nearly time for bed anyways. No Slytherin is worth losing sleep over though, you know that."

"We SHOULD go after them!" Shamus said as the Gryffindors made this way to the common room. "And the new password is 'Dilligrout', by the way."

Hermione headed straight for her bed, and pulled the curtains around her four-poster bed. She could hear her friends in the common room laughing and joking for several hours. The rest of the evening Seemed to consist of the boys coming up with wild plans to drop Malfoy into the Black Lake, and feed him to the Giant Squid. After an hour, the room fell silent as everyone made their way up to bed. As the other Gryffindor girls were drifting off into sleep, Hermione was wide awake.

'Where it all began?' She thought. 'He couldn't possibly mean the train could he? Or the Black Lake? That would be silly.' She tossed and turned. 'Could he mean… the Harbor under the school? That's where saw each other for the first time. We were all getting out of the boats to be sorted. That's where Hogwarts began for us.'

She was suddenly wide awake.


	7. Dinner and The Wait

Monday seemed to drag on with the speed of one of the snails that lived in Hagrid's garden. Hermione did her best to act normal around Harry and Ron. She kept up with conversation, and even joined in when they complained about Snape and his increasingly difficult Defense Against The Dark Arts lessons. It was true that the former potions master was relishing in torturing all of her Hogwarts students, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw alike. When the final bell of the day rang, sending waves of sound throughout the castle, Hermione dumped her books in her dormitory and scurried down the lavish marble staircase for dinner. Even though she had a class load of unfinished DADA homework, she refused to think about it now.

"Hermione, you've hardly touched your plate. I haven't seen you eat more than a tea cake in days. What is going on with you?" George Weasley who was sitting next to her, nudged her with his elbow.

"Oh, it's nothing. Excuse me George, I need to use the loo." She stood and hurried out of the Great Hall. Shocked, the Weasley twin turned to his brother.

"Blimey. She sure is acting weird. Have you noticed?" Fred shrugged in response and took a huge bite of his steaming cornish pasty.

Hermione would be lying if she said she wasn't looking for Draco as she walked through the room. She could see the Slytherins sitting scattered out over their house table. Draco sat at his usual spot, wedged between Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. They looked to be in as awkward of a silence as her own. Something was off though. Pansy, a brash Slytherin sixth year usually sat next to Malfoy, but today she was on the far side of a concerned looking Blaise Zambini with her head buried in her folded arms. Blaise patted her back, speaking in a low voice.

•••

Hermionie sat upright in bed, hidden behind the curtains of her four-poster. She had already borrowed the invisibility cloak per Draco's request from Harry, under the guise of going to the library for some late night reading. Time seemed to have halted. It was only around eleven, but she couldn't wait any longer. Even if she did not go to the meeting spot right away, she could at least stop by the library. That way she wouldn't actually be lying to Harry. The library is her favorite spot, so it came as no surprise that that's where she'd end up.

As quietly as she could, Hermionie climbed out of bed, and draped the cloak over her arm. The common room was quiet, save for the crackling of the fire that had no doubt been tended to by one of the many Hogwarts House-elves. As she crept across the warm common area, she saw George laying on the couch in front of the fireplace getting a little adventurous with his snogging with Leah Hart, a fellow Gryffindoor of the same year.

Hermionie wondered to herself if anyone would ever kiss her like that. Would anyone ever let their hands danced across her skin, as she pulled them closer to her body? Despite what anyone thought, including Ron, she had never been kissed. No hand holding, no kissing and definitely no passionate embraces with open shirted boys. She found herself wondering what Gerorge's bare skin would feel like. Would he be soft and warm, or would he be more hard angles and rough calloused hands? What would Malfoy feel like under her dainty fingers? What would it be like to cave into his chest, and taste his lips? The girl shook her head and covered herself in the cloak as she pushed open the portrait of the fat lady and made her way down the corridor and down many sets of stairs to the harbor under the school.


End file.
